


Aimer

by orphan_account



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: A lot of vague internal dialogue, Because they were technically ‘together’ for a long while now lol, Intimate but not romantic, Kissing, M/M, Not really a get together thing, Or romantic whatever, Sinbad isn’t as cheery, Vague mention of mental illness, soft moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 02:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21236801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Set roughly ten years after the events of Magi.It’s one of those days where one thinks too much. Ja’far drags Sinbad for a long walk away from the townsfolk.





	Aimer

**Author's Note:**

> Aimer sings these two: “Ninelie” and “Kataomoi”. Helped set the mood. 
> 
> Holy crap I forgot how much I loved these two ;-; The SinJa Feels are strong.
> 
> I’m purposely vague and messy on a lot of the internal dialogue here lol. Enjoy!

Tonight was a night for a walk, Ja’far had decided. He had shuffled into his casual attire and dragged Sinbad out of his toolshed to use what little sunlight remained for the trek. They walked and walked, going as far into the wooded area; though away from the animals and carnivorous flora. The terrain was much farther up in height, and soon they found themselves near a shrouded cliff. It’s here where they stopped to watch the waves below them.

.

Ja’far finds himself looking to Sinbad while he thinks...of too much. Like how Sinbad had completed the blueprints to his ship just two days ago, and how festive the week before was when Masrur visited, bringing along his children and his wives—and how Ja’far’s heart still warmed every time the little ones addressed him as ‘Uncle’; and, everyone laughing when Sinbad was still ‘Old Man’—which speaking of, Ja’far is realizing now that he hasn’t really paid much attention to Sinbad’s appearance through recent years. There were definitely laugh lines, and a few sunspots here and there. Ja’far feels a ghost of a laugh when he remembers the grey hairs he’d spotted recently.

But the humor dies immediately upon remembering what might’ve brought on those graying strands. Ever since he came back, Sinbad has had...episodes. The first happened half a year after his return. That lasted about a month. The second lasted the longest, about three months. After _ that _ one, Sinbad’s ‘episodes’ would come and go. But they were clearly taking a toll on him. He’d go back to his usual self, sure, but...Sinbad is hurting. The stress affects him physically, too; the graying.

Ja’far understands. He really does. And so do a lot of their comrades. So, that helps. Knowing Sinbad will never be alone, even if he thinks it’s best he is—after everything he had done. _ He’d have to kill me if he wanted me away from him _. 

To think Ja’far has been by this man’s side for nearly thirty years. _ Too long. _ The growth, the people they gained and lost, the adventures, their drift... _ But here we are again. _ Though older, _ much older _ , and different; but not _ too _ different. They’re hurting—a lot of people are—but they’re _ healing _ . And...Ja’far’s not sure why, but there’s always been a _ slight _ possessive streak when it came to this man. _ I’m in deep. _

Sinbad, too far gone in whatever thoughts he’s thinking of, startles when a hand cradles his cheek. “Ja’far?” He starts, turning as Ja’far guides him, with furrowed brows. Those golden eyes blink confusingly when Ja’far fails to respond and simply continues to stare at Sinbad. “Ja’far…?” He tries again, tentatively.

“You’ve aged,” Ja’far says, hand still over his former king’s cheek.

Sinbad scoffs. “Quite the charmer yourself,” he mutters under his breath, frowning slightly as he keeps his gaze on Ja’far. 

Ja’far grins and says, “This is probably long overdue but,” he takes a step closer, raises himself up with the tips of his toes, and _ leans _. He sees the widening of eyes and hears the stifling of breath as he edges near to Sinbad’s face. Sinbad gulps and stutters his name—and Ja’far can’t help the wicked grin from his face as he skims by Sinbad’s cheek and hears the man choke. He lingers by Sinbad’s ear, gliding his free arm up Sinbad’s bare one—feeling the goosebumps that rise from doing this—then rests it around Sinbad’s shoulder, for leverage. Ja’far is half resting, half hanging off his friend now. 

“Hey, Sin,” he starts, lips grazing at the shell of Sinbad’s ear, his other hand still against Sinbad’s cheek, stroking it with his thumb—and he can feel the hammering of Sinbad’s heart against his own chest; a thrilling thought that _ he _ can bring out such a reaction. For the hell of it, Ja’far waits a solid three seconds before speaking. It’s during this short time that he realizes the other hasn’t moved at all. _ That’s no fun. _

“Your face is quite warm, Sin, are you alright?” 

“Ja’faaar,” Sinbad whines, prompting a chuckle from Ja’far. “So cruel.”

Ja’far hums, his insides twisting into knots at Sinbad’s hitched breathing. “Hey, Sin,” he starts again, his own breath picking up, “may I kiss you?”

Sinbad exhales. “Please do,” he murmurs—and there's hesitance to his voice that almost sprouts a seed of worry within Ja’far. _ Almost. _

He doesn't have to think too much. Ja'far shifts and soon feels his lips brushing against Sinbad's. They lock eyes for a moment, and Ja'far holds his breath—_so_ _close_—waiting to see who will make the next move.

But Sinbad remains still, cheeks very much warm under Ja'far's hand, and with a gaze so intense it brings a sort of excitement to all this. Vague memories of drunken make outs come to mind—but they were younger, _ much younger _ ; and those moments never went further than sloppy liplock. And besides— _ Did he always look at me this way? _

Ja'far would love to drag this moment out longer, but his patience has run thin. He kisses Sinbad firmly, the hand on his cheek snaking behind to wind through those long locks. Ja’far’s body hums, and he can’t hear anything save for the waves below them and the sea breeze. 

Sinbad _ finally _ moves, threading one hand through Ja'far's hair and the other hand resting behind his back, holding him in place—firmly, like a foundation. 

As for Sinbad's lips, his kisses remain tender; a contrast to Ja'far's firmer ones. And he kisses and kisses this way over and over, until Ja'far tires and can only _ be _ kissed. The warmth in his belly blooms much too hot and spreads through his body, making him light headed and breathless and—are those tears? _ I'm crying? _

Ja'far blinks his eyes open and startles at the tears running down Sinbad's face. "Sin?" His lips feel odd, tingly.

Sinbad shakes his head and simply brings Ja'far into a hug, resting his tearful face into the smaller man's shoulder. He sniffles and holds onto Ja’far tightly, fingers burrowing into his shoulders. 

Ja’far holds onto the tearful man, too stunned and mildly light headed to do much else. There’s a calmness inside him, though, as he looks above them at the starry sky. Sinbad’s broad body shaking every so often, but it’s warm. Sinbad’s tears that sneak past his collared shirt and pool on his skin—they’re warm, too. Ja’far’s not sure what to make of this. The night around them, the stars above them, the waves below them. The lingering looks they shared as they climbed up the path, the plans they made about sailing the seas after Ja’far retires from the council, the short bouts of pensive silence the former king of the seven seas would fall into after being visited by old friends—what is Ja’far supposed to make of all this?

“Don’t leave me, Ja’far.”

Ja’far startles from his thoughts. “Huh?”

Sinbad pulls back slowly, cheeks stained with tear tracks—a sight, though familiar to Ja’far, that still looks _ so wrong _ on his old friend. Sinbad smiles wryly. “You’re thinking too hard,” he says, voice cracking. He coughs lightly before continuing with, “thought I’d lose you for a sec.”

“Look who’s talking,” Ja’far shoots back. “‘M pretty sure I lost you for a while there.”

“Ah,” Sinbad scratches his neck, wry smile shrinking to something bashful. “Sorry. Got a bit emotional.”

“A bit.” Ja’far smirks which only causes Sinbad to shrink back in embarrassment. But Ja’far isn’t _ that _ cruel; he backs off and turns away. “It’s getting late. Let’s head back.”

.

They trek back down the path in companionable silence, occasionally nudging each other’s shoulder and with their hands brushing every so often. Soft smiles widening to a wry grin when their eyes meet. Bubbles of laughter when they slip on loose rocks for staring too long. Pinkies entwining somewhere in the middle of this.

“I’m staying by your side forever, by the way,” Ja’far says as they near their stilt home. 

Sinbad jumps. “Eh?”

_ You’re so soft-hearted that you even saved a guy like me... _

Ja’far smirks. “Someone’s got to take care of you.”

“_ Ja’far _,” Sinbad whines, “I’m not some child!”

_ Following someone as optimistic as you leaves me with lots to worry about. _

“Says the one who got emotional over a kiss.”

Ja’far laughs when Sinbad squawks, then runs away as the older man begins to chase him.

_ I’ll jump in and help when I need to. _

The waves and sea breeze are ever constant in his life, aren’t they?

_ Following you sure is troublesome, Sin. _

**Author's Note:**

> *Kudos to chapter 81 from Sinbad no Bouken for that last bit! TwT One of my favorites. 
> 
> *Sinbad’s depressed—if my writing didn’t make any sense. Looking back when he was younger, and then how dirtied he willingly got his hands—and then to basically die and come back BECAUSE HE DOES COME BACK I WILL FIGHT YOU ON THIS...all this made me think “Sinbad is gonna hurt like a bitch.” O-O 
> 
> *This was self-indulgent as fuck and boi did this feel amazing to write.
> 
> **Give a listen to TK from Ling tosite sigure’s “White Silence.” It helped out, too!


End file.
